Icing
by Punky Misfit
Summary: If Brennan has her way, she and Booth won't be able to make their dinner reservations.


**Author's note:** This is my first real attempt at any sort of smut piece. I don't feel I'm very good at writing it, so I ordinarily skip over it. However, I'd like to be able to further myself as a writer. I wrote this in hopes of getting some real feedback. What's good, what isn't, etc. Any and all reviews will be appreciated. And on that note, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

The sound of blades scratching back and forth on the ice was amplified in Booth's ears. He was poised much like a tiger in wait for their prey. Muscles coiled tightly in anticipation. Ready to leap given the signal. He was very aware of the sound of the small crowd that had gathered for the game; to witness a spectacle performed by gladiators. He'd set out that afternoon intending to give them a show, and over the course of an hour and a half had delivered. Sweat coated his forehead underneath his helmet. His body ached with the only kind of exhaustion he loved. Hockey for him was almost as good as sex. There was a build up, a release, and then satisfaction. It was therapy of the greatest kind. It was love.

A ref blew the whistle. The puck dropped down onto the ice. Two teams battled for control. Booth skated outside of the fray. He knew when and how to seize the moment. He knew precisely how to get the job done. For that reason he was highly respected by his team mates, and loathed by his rivals. But they should have known to expect it. Booth never did anything half assed. When he set out to do something, he was sure to do it well. There was no other option.

The puck slid back and forth across the ice as different players took it into their possession. Another whistle was called for icing - a foul. Booth took the time out to glance up into the stands. In the audience he caught sight of someone who made him smile. Brennan was waving a hand at him animatedly. His game was the first part of the "date night" they'd set aside for themselves. Both of them were eager to have the opportunity. Having a baby together rarely gave them any alone time these days. As much as they loved their daughter the "adult time" was welcomed. And craved.

Another play began. During the face off both opposing players were unable to claim the puck. It awkwardly shot out sideways, away from them and straight to Booth. He caught it on the blade of his stick. Though he felt like it had been handed to him he didn't take the turn of luck for granted. Forward he powered, juggling the black disc on the edge of his stick.

He was so fast the other team were unable to catch him. The arena blurred by. Booth focused on nothing else but the goalie in front of him. He skated left, tricking his foe into following in the same direction with his body. Just as he was near enough to shoot he dodged right. With the goalie unable to mimic him the puck sailed into the net without interference just as a bell rang signaling the end of the game. Up in the air Booth raised his arms triumphantly. This was definitely a great start to date night.

* * *

Brennan wasn't the least bit bashful about making her way into the men's locker room once she knew for sure Booth was alone. As far as she was concerned she had a place now in the one prohibited space. Booth sure wouldn't mind having her company as he changed. And she sure wouldn't mind watching him.

While his team mates had come and gone Booth had done little besides step out of his skates. He heard the heels of her shoes clicking on the solid concrete floor and glanced up at her. "You're not supposed to be in here."

"You're alone, Booth. There's no one in here to mind but you. And I doubted that you did."

He grinned ruefully. "Yeah. That's true."

"I wanted to tell you your skills on the ice were very impressive."

Booth yanked his jersey off over his forehead. He let it fall to the floor. "They always have been, Bones. You just haven't seen me play in a while."

She smiled. "You haven't invited me in a while."

"You're always welcome at my games. You know that. It's just that you usually can't find a babysitter for Christine."

Brennan picked up his jersey. The smooth feel of it slithered between her fingers. Both ice water and sweat had left it damp, and she imagined pungent. But knowing that she found she still couldn't seem to let it go. There'd been something about the way he'd played that stirred up an animal she'd forgotten lived inside of her. She was very inhibited about sex. Passionate. But since their daughter had been born the two of them had been too exhausted for much romance. There'd been little time for intimacy. "I was glad Angela volunteered today." She murmured.

Booth sat down on a bench. He undid the Velcro on his knee pads. "Why are you looking at my jersey like that?"

She blinked a few times. The trance snapped. Feeling foolish, her cheeks turned several shades of red before she looked to him. "I happen to like the fabric."

"Oh-kay." He muttered skeptically. Each of his knee socks came off. He was left now in nothing but the smooth black padding that protected his stomach. It continued downwards over his waist, hips, and thighs. The muscles in his naked chest rippled beneath his skin with every motion that he made.

That animal inside was demanding attention. Now. She folded the jersey neatly and placed it on the bench besides him. She knew by the time they returned home it'd be balled up into a wad again. That was just Booth. Impatience was one of his quirks she could appreciate. Sometimes.

"All right. Let me just hit the showers and wash up. Then I'll change and we can head out to dinner. You made reservations, right?" Booth pulled his gym bag from out of his locker. He dropped it to the ground with a thud. Down on one knee he rifled through the pockets until he located his soap and shampoo.

She still couldn't keep from gazing at him as though he were the only man alive. Yes, she'd made reservations the day before for one of the premier restaurants in town. Angela had graciously offered the baby sit for however long the couple wanted. Since Hodgins had taken Michael out for the evening for a "boys' night" she'd told Brennan that she was in no real hurry to get home. "We _are_ alone in here, correct? I wasn't mistaken?"

He stood up. "Well, yeah. The other guys left like a while ago. Sorry I'm taking so long. I didn't mean-"

She closed the distance between them. Booth was rightfully confused when she pressed their bodies together. She kissed him, lifting her hand to curl her cool fingers around the clammy warmth of his back. Her other hand rested on his cheek, and she stroked a path through his short hair with thumb. Booth caught on immediately. His hands took a firm hold of her hips to pull her closer. He inhaled the breath she exhaled when she parted her lips in aroused surprise. His tongue pushed forward to taste her. "What time were the reservations for?" He whispered playfully.

She tilted her head and grinned. "I'm sure if we're slightly late they'd still seat us."

He briefly kissed her again. "I'll hurry up, all right?" She was left standing stone cold and disappointed when he turned away from her. He retrieved the bottles that had fallen onto the floor during their moment. His back turned away from her and he headed for the showers.

"You don't… have to…" She stammered after him. He paused and turned around slowly. "Huh?"

"We could… I mean," she took a step towards him. "We're alone. We haven't… in quite some time…" How had he rendered her incapable of speaking complete sentences?

Booth knew her well enough to know when she was hungry for sex. The place and timing were odd to him. He didn't feign his shock. "_Here, _Bones?"

"Yes. I mean, I suppose we could wait until we get home. But I find that too long to wait, and there's no saying if Christine will be asleep, or will continue to do so. And," she grinned shyly. "I've never made love in a locker room."

"Well, I haven't either. But," he was still trying to absorb the thought. He'd never done it, but certainly in his youth he'd dreamed about it. That teenage fantasy had been shelved as an adult. "_Really? _Here?"

"I understand your reluctance. Perhaps you are afraid of being unable to become appropriately aroused given the public nature of the environment I have chosen-"

His mouth nearly fell open. Was she really accusing him of being unable to "get it up?" Indignantly he yanked her back into his embrace. He kissed her with the driving force of months of pent up frustration. If she wanted it then he'd give her all he had been saving up. He placed his hand on her shirt, cupping her breast and kneading it gently.

"Mmm." She moaned softly. Her own touch flittered down his body until she located the strings on the front of his pants. Unlike him she showed no such tenderness. A few powerful tugs and the fly was completely undone. She broke away from him to pull the pants down over his legs until he was left in nothing but his boxers. She stared deeply into his eyes as she lowered herself onto her knees. His own had darkened considerably with desire. She knew how badly he needed a release, and what a good, patient man he'd been while she'd been healing.

The elastic waistband curled easily within her grasp. She bent forward to kiss the skin of his abdomen, distracting his attention as she peeled the barrier from his body. Her tongue licked away the salty sweat he'd worked up during the game. Lower she dipped, lapping at the length of him before accepting the tip of him into her mouth.

"Fuck." He gasped. "Bones." His heart was already pounding like a drum in his chest. Tightly he shut his eyes, letting his head fall back onto his shoulders.

Back and forth she glided her hand over him with a firm touch. The head remained in her mouth and she continuously applied pressure with her lips. The sensitive area underside of the tip she tickled with her tongue. Not before long she could determine he was fighting himself to keep his hips still; to keep himself from thrusting. Every so often his pelvis would jerk forward until his already coiled muscles would clench tighter. Faintly he breathed her name. Fingers tangled in her hair. "God."

She continued on until his breathing grew heavier. Faster. Until it came to an abrupt end. All of a sudden he was pulling her up onto her feet. "Come with me," he whispered huskily. Brennan furrowed her brow, trying to decipher his meaning since there was more than one way to take that phrase. He tugged on her hand, and she let him take the lead.

They wound through the locker room straight through to the showers. Three individual stalls sat vacant. Each one had a black curtain pulled across the entrance for privacy. Booth brought her straight into the first stall. Off to the right of the shower a waterproof wooden bench had been built into the wall. Brennan could predict Booth's thoughts from there.

He distracted her with the same feverish embrace he'd taken her up in before. Once she felt him take a hold of the hem of her shirt she obediently lifted her arms. In a graceful sweep he lifted it over her head and threw it. Over her shoulders he slid the straps of her bra. She reached behind her to unfasten it, allowing her breasts to dangle without restraint.

He palmed the both of them in his hands. This thumbs circled her nipples until they each tightened into a hard pebble. She sighed happily as soon as he lifted one of them to his mouth. Gently he bit down, applying pressure with both his lips and tongue. The simple action startled her into realizing she too, had been suppressing too much for too long. Just having his mouth touching her skin was setting her senses on fire. He was a drug, and she was definitely becoming addicted. The throbbing between her thighs was almost unbearable.

As though he could read her mind he moved down south to ease her suffering. From there he proceeded to press her backwards. She let him walk her until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bench. She took it on herself to lay down before him on her back. Her eyes were filled with lust as she watched him.

Booth climbed over her. His warm body pressed down against hers. Teasingly he skirted a hand over her satin skin. Downward he plunged, loosening her jeans before pushing his hand inside her panties. "Oh, Booth," she groaned. He grinned back at her.

Along her jaw he planted several chaste kisses. She felt his weight lift away from her, and instead enjoyed the sensation of his hot, moist tongue traveling down her body to her navel. Her hips lifted to give Booth an easier time removing what little she still had on. He kissed the naked skin exposed on the inside of her thighs. His head then lowered and she felt his tongue make contact with her clit. A thousand explosions lit up her mind. She couldn't prevent herself from letting out the softest of moans.

She heard him chuckle before continuing. He treated her as though he were licking a lollipop, and trying to savor the flavor. Slowly he drug his tongue over her, at times swirling the area that had become swollen. A hand came to rest on her abdomen, which he used to apply pressure to coincide with his movements. She became breathless as approached the edge of her limits. But no. This wasn't what she wanted. Well, it _was _of course. But not like this. "Booth?"

He pulled back. "Yeah?"

"I want…" She couldn't think straight. "More. I want you."

Back he was stretched over her. "Get up," he whispered in her ear.

She wasn't sure she was capable. In sitting up alone she felt dizzy. Carefully she stumbled onto her feet. Booth had turned his back to her. He played with the shower dials as a warm waterfall suddenly rained droplets down onto them, soaking them both. From there he turned his attention back to her. Up against the wall he pressed her. Her arms wound tightly around his shoulders as he pushed himself deep inside of her. She gasped from the shock of pleasure.

He interpreted her. "Am I hurting you?"

"No. Don't stop." She begged him.

His first few thrusts were tentative. The last thing he wanted was to cause her any pain. Given that they hadn't had sex since she'd had the baby he had no idea how she was feeling.

Finally, she told him, "I promise I'm fine. Don't hold back."

With her permission he let loose. All the left over adrenaline stored in his body from the game was poured out into her. His hips bumped against hers with every heavy thrust. Both her heavy breathing and alternating cries and moans of pleasure encouraged him more. Her nails scratched across his skin slippery from both sweat and water. She was driving him mad.

Not to say that he wasn't causing any chaos within her body. Every time they made love it felt as though they were back at the beginning, as if it was their first time ever. He could make her feel like she was the only woman he'd ever loved. With each and every skillful stroke he pushed her towards heights no other lover had been able to make her climb.

Suddenly he was tugging gently at her upper thighs. She allowed him to lift her up into his arms. Immediately she folded her legs around his lower back. The new position intensified the pleasure he was able to give her. It wasn't all that more than a few thrusts before an orgasm she hadn't been prepared for her shook her like an earthquake. She screamed and her back arched towards his chest. Her toes tightened. He kissed the sweat away from between her breasts. She pulled him closer during the aftermath of her rolling storm that he rode out.

She may had been finished but he'd only just begun. He held her, pushing himself into her for so long before carrying her to the bench, and laying her down tenderly. They shared a kiss. He gazed deeply into her eyes. "You're so beautiful, Bones."

The simple things were what meant the most. The hushed words brought on another orgasmic wave. Her pelvic muscles tightened on him. He too, at last experienced his own rush. He managed a few more thrusts before his orgasm stopped him dead. He buried his face in the space between her shoulder and neck. Her arms encircled him and she kissed his ear. "That was… satisfactory." She giggled.

He tilted his head to look at her. "Just _satisfactory_?"

She wore a Cheshire cat smile. "It was amazing. But I expect nothing less from you."

Their hearts gradually slowed into the same rhythm, yet neither one were willing to leave their makeshift paradise. "I'm willing to bet we missed those reservations." Booth mused.

"I believe it was worth it. We could always make dinner at home. Then it wouldn't be such a long wait for dessert." She grinned suggestively.

"You read my mind. Dessert is always served better at home."

"Not always…"

"Yeah." He glanced around the shower stall. "I guess you're right."

The End


End file.
